


r = (you/me) - summer heat

by jjokkiri



Category: X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, And Seungwoo Is Hot, Bad Flirting, Bad math jokes, Eased By The Presence Of A Hot Tutor, M/M, Pre-Relationship, The Horrors Of Summer Tutoring, Tutoring, Yohan Is Embarrassing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:20:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26574403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjokkiri/pseuds/jjokkiri
Summary: Yohan would rather be under the sun. He thinks there isn’t anything that could waste his time and energy quite like summer tutoring. It’s the worst.Until it isn’t.
Relationships: Han Seungwoo/Kim Yohan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 47
Collections: SUMMER BLISS: A X1 Ficfest: Round 1





	r = (you/me) - summer heat

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt #30** —Yohan dreads the upcoming summer because that means getting tutored and college was supposed to be a fun and freeing experience, not a repeat of his high school years. That all changes when he sees his tutor walk in (Seungwoo), and his mind blanks immediately.
> 
> The title is a play on the Fisher equation (formula for the real interest rate), originally written as: _r = [(1 + i)/(1 + p)] - 1_

_“You can’t be serious,”_ Hangyul’s voice crackles through the speaker of Yohan’s cell phone. _“What do you_ mean _you can’t come with us? You weren’t kidding?”_

“No, _you_ can’t be serious,” Yohan complains, his voice hushed and whiney. He buries his face into his right hand, adjusting his cellphone on his shoulder to balance it against his ear, “I told you that I wouldn’t be able to come. I can’t believe you would do this to me, traitors.”

 _“I didn’t know you were_ serious _,”_ Hangyul says on the other line. He sounds so defensive that Yohan _almost_ can’t hate him for having fun without him.

Yohan _almost_ can’t hate Hangyul for shooting him a call about the trip that their group of friends excitedly planned in the group chat—which, for the record, Yohan did not participate in (it was just assumed that he would come with them because he _always_ comes with them).

Yohan wishes he weren’t serious.

As Hangyul talks to him, Yohan can hear the sound of dull thudding reverberating on the other end of the line. He can only imagine that Hangyul is currently dribbling a basketball while he’s on the phone with him. He can only imagine his best friend is having _fun_ without him.

All Yohan wants to do is tell Hangyul that he’s joking about not being able to join him and their friends on a road trip to the beach. All he wants to do is get up from the desk that he’s sitting at, throw his phone into his bag, and run to where he can talk to Hangyul in person. He wants to be in the gym shooting hoops, too. He wants to spend his summer having fun, too.

He can’t, though.

He’s stuck in a small classroom in the sketchiest corner of campus’ left-wing. He’s stuck sitting here waiting for his tutor to come into the classroom because he had to be an idiot and fail _Introduction to Corporate Finance II_ in his winter term. Kim Yohan doesn’t get to have fun this summer because Kim Yohan was too busy failing finance during the winter term.

“Hangyul,” Yohan groans, “ _why_ , why, _why_ would I _ever_ lie about having to attend summer tutoring? I swore I told you guys in the group chat that I wouldn’t be able to come!”

Hangyul snorts at him. He quickly covers his mouth, trying to muffle his laughter.

 _“You did tell us. I just—I don’t know,”_ Hangyul replies. _“I thought you were doing well in school. Didn’t you say you were on top of things? I didn’t think you failed a course.”_

Yohan groans.

“You know, Hangyul,” he says. He shifts in his seat and sighs heavily when the metal creaks beneath him. “I thought I was. I thought I was doing really well.”

 _“Liar,”_ comes a familiar voice from Hangyul’s end. It isn’t Hangyul—Hangyul yelps when there’s a loud smacking sound followed by the sound of the ball rolling away from him. There’s a shuffling sound before the voice becomes clearer. _“You went into that final exam telling me that you were going to sell your soul to Satan for a passing grade. Looks like Satan didn’t want it, baby.”_

Yohan almost startles when he realizes who is speaking to him. Hangyul is with Yohan’s roommate. He’s on the phone with _Wooseok_ , and Wooseok probably just knocked the ball out of Hangyul’s hands for a good laugh (Yohan would have laughed if he were there).

“Am I on speaker?” he asks, sounding betrayed. “Did Hangyul put me on speaker?”

Wooseok laughs at him.

 _“Of course,”_ he replies. _“What? You’re not talking about anything sensitive. Besides, it’s just me here and I live with you. I already know everything.”_

“You suck, hyung,” Yohan says. He sighs, defeated. “If you were going out to hang out with Hangyul, you could have at least given me a ride to campus.”

Wooseok makes an irritating whining sound that sounds like he’s mocking him.

 _“I’m not the one who forgot to put gas in the tank for his favourite hyung even after three different reminders,”_ he says. Yohan can’t see him, but he knows he’s shrugging. _“You didn’t deserve a ride.”_

“You’re so mean,” Yohan replies. “You’re going on a trip without me and you’re _also_ bullying me.”

 _“Suck it up, baby,”_ Wooseok says. _“We’ll be back in no time. If you improve your grades, we’ll plan another trip in August. You can come with us then.”_

Yohan isn’t a bad student by any means. At least, he doesn’t think he is.

Throughout high school, he had decent grades. He was never at the top of his class—nor was his name ever included in a certain top percentage—but he wasn’t _stupid_. He was only stupid enough to believe that all of that could change when he came to university. Not that it’s entirely his fault that he failed his class—finance is stupidly hard for absolutely no reason, and his professor didn’t care.

Wooseok’s promise feels half-hearted. Yohan knows he means it because he knows that Wooseok means well, but he can’t help but feel defeated at the mention of his grades improving. He doesn’t have very much faith in that. He’s only going through the tutoring sessions because his advisor heavily implied that failing to earn a passing credit in _Introduction to Corporate Finance_ _II_ would heighten the chances that the university would put him on academic probation. He’s only afraid of the possibilities. It isn’t because he believes that having a tutor will help him pass his course (“It’s not that I want it. I was threatened,” he explained to Wooseok when the older man asked him about his tutoring sessions).

If Yohan had a choice, he wouldn’t choose to be on campus two days a week to learn finance—he isn’t crazy. He would much rather be stuffed into a cramped car with his friends, speeding down the highway to the beach. He would much rather be running in the sunshine across sandy beaches.

He doesn’t have a choice, though. So, he’s stuck in the sketchy classroom in the shadiest wing of the school where there isn’t bright sunlight shining down on him and his soul feels like it’s rotting.

Yohan sighs. He taps his pencil impatiently against his textbook with a frown on his lips, “I don’t see how one-on-one tutoring is going to help me, hyung. I already don’t get the material. No amount of studying is going to make me get the material.”

 _“Hm, that’s not the mentality we’re going for,”_ Wooseok says.

Yohan rolls his eyes.

“How can I trust someone to teach me when they can’t even be on time for the session?” Yohan asks. “I’m going to leave if he isn’t here in another ten minutes.”

Wooseok snorts.

 _“Are you aware that leaving when the teacher isn’t there after fifteen minutes is something that a bunch of kids made up, right?”_ Wooseok asks, _“You’re not actually allowed to do that.”_

Yohan laughs dryly.

“Oh, hyung,” he says. “I wish I gave a fuck.”

 _“I think you should give a fuck. It sounds like a good idea,”_ Wooseok says. He says it so casually that it’s almost humorous. Yohan would laugh if Wooseok’s words weren’t directed at him. The older man sighs. He says, _“Lighten up, kiddo. You’re going to be fine. I think you’ll miraculously master the concepts of corporate finance in a couple of weeks! You passed the first iteration of the course with decent grades. Surely, you can apply some of those concepts to the second half of the course. It isn’t like they’re throwing you to the sharks. You already know some of this stuff. So, when you learn the rest of this stuff, you can come to hang out with us.”_

“I’m going to be so sad when I come back to our place and you’re not there, hyung,” Yohan says. He purposefully makes it sound so miserable. It’s a ploy to toy with Wooseok’s heartstrings. He sounds like a whining puppy, ready to run circles around his owner, who is putting on his shoes to leave the house.

 _“Stop being a baby,”_ Wooseok says. Yohan can hear his voice softening, though. He knows his roommate has a soft spot for him—not that he would ever cancel his trip to stay with Yohan because he is implying that he’ll miss him too much. Wooseok (unfortunately) isn’t that weak. _“You’re going to be fine. I’ll be back in a few days to hang out with you.”_

The waver in Wooseok’s voice is enough to encourage Yohan. Yohan is ready to complain about being all alone in their apartment. He’s fully ready to make Wooseok feel the terror of believing that Yohan will only eat takeout for an entire week if he isn’t around to cook. He almost has an entire speech prepared to horrify Wooseok into considering staying with him instead of heading to the oceanside.

He doesn’t have the chance to do it, though.

The sound of the doorknob jolting snaps Yohan out of his conversation.

“Oh, shit,” Yohan says. “I’ve gotta go, hyung. I’ll talk to you later. I think my tutor is here.”

 _“Good luck!”_ Wooseok says, hurriedly, _“Tell me about it later.”_

Wooseok is the one who hangs up the phone.

Yohan quickly throws his phone into the shelf underneath the table and sits up straight, pretending he wasn’t on his phone. He shuffles his textbook around on the desk in an attempt to pretend that he was looking through it before his tutor entered. And then, he looks up at the tall man who entered the room.

His jaw almost drops as soon as his eyes meet with the breathless man who places a matching textbook onto the desk in front of Yohan. He only looks a few years older than him. He also looks like he ran to the classroom—Yohan wonders how he didn’t hear the man’s footsteps rushing down the hall.

He doesn’t have many thoughts, though. All he can think is ‘ _oh, no. He’s hot.’_

The man smiles kindly at him and brushes his long, dark fringe out of his eyes with even longer fingers.

“Kim Yohan?” he asks. Yohan nods dumbly at him. The man places both of his hands on the hardcover textbook and tilts his head, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Seungwoo. I’ll be your tutor.”

Yohan can’t take his eyes off of him. He briefly glances down at where Seungwoo’s hands are resting on the textbook’s cover. Somehow, his hands delicately placed on the textbook makes Yohan feel like he hates the book less. Suddenly, the dull skyscrapers on the front of the textbook, which Yohan has grown sick of in the past semester, look like the prettiest things he’s ever seen.

He practically croaks, “It’s so good to meet you. _So good._ ”

Seungwoo smiles at him, but he looks a little confused.

Yohan doesn’t know how to explain to his tutor that he feels like he might pass out because Seungwoo is hot, so he doesn’t even bother trying. He doesn’t need his tutor to think that he’s both dumb and out of his mind. So, with the thought that he definitely _doesn’t_ want to come off as weird as hell, Yohan clears his throat awkwardly.

“I’m so excited to learn,” he says, brilliantly.

Seungwoo pulls out the chair in front of him and takes a seat. He doesn’t shake his confusion off very well, but he masks it well enough to not be questioned. Yohan doesn’t remark on the way his smile dims a little because Yohan supposes that he hasn’t ever met a student who was so eager to learn—though, he thinks that _anyone_ Seungwoo teaches should be _extremely_ excited to learn.

“That’s wonderful,” Seungwoo replies. “I have a lot of students who don’t want to be here.”

“I can’t believe that,” Yohan tells him. “I literally cannot believe that.”

Seungwoo tilts his head. He purses his lips in thought.

“I mean, I don’t think very many people _want_ to be on campus in the middle of the summer,” Seungwoo says, so honest that it should be a crime that he sounds so innocent. And he sounds thoughtful—looks it, even. He tilts his head and continues, “I think a lot of people would rather be on the beach with their friends or something. It’s probably nicer to be somewhere where the sun is shining down on them and not in this dark, gloomy hallway?”

Yohan swallows hard. He blinks.

 _It’s not like Seungwoo read his mind or anything,_ he tells himself. Seungwoo is just honest. _It’s not like Seungwoo heard him on the phone with Wooseok._

“No,” he says, “I don’t think so. I think everyone would _love_ to be taught by you. I love being here.”

Seungwoo pauses. He studies Yohan for a moment.

Then, his lips curve into a small smile. He chuckles and shakes his head.

“Perfect,” Seungwoo says. He looks amused and his eyes twinkle when he smiles, “I’ll look forward to Tuesdays and Thursdays, then, since I have one student who wants to be here.”

“I’m so excited to learn,” he repeats.

Seungwoo laughs and it’s the prettiest thing Yohan has heard in years—and that’s saying something because Yohan has heard Wooseok laugh many times in the past few years.

He opens the textbook and smooths out one of the pages.

“I won’t keep you waiting, then,” he says, “Let’s start.”

Yohan swallows.

He thinks he can get used to getting up early in the morning to come to campus if he’s seeing Seungwoo when he does it. He thinks he might be able to force himself to learn if it’s Seungwoo.

Suddenly, summer tutoring doesn’t feel _that_ bad. Hot men on the beach probably can’t compare to Seungwoo because not only is Seungwoo hot, but he’s _smart_.

Yohan _needs_ to tell Wooseok all about his very sexy tutor.

He just needs to survive his first tutoring session.

* * *

He does, in fact, survive his first tutoring session. He actually manages to survive his first _two_ tutoring sessions. _Survival at the bare minimum level._ He barely scrapes by pretending to understand what the fuck Seungwoo is talking about. The academic jargon associated with finance isn’t his forte by any means and he wants to insist that he’s doing his best, but the truth is that more of Yohan’s time is spent staring at Seungwoo than it is solving textbook problems.

Seungwoo doesn’t seem to notice.

Or maybe he’s just really good at pretending that he doesn’t see Yohan staring.

Regardless of which it is, what is actually amazing is that Seungwoo still seems to believe that Yohan is excited to learn, that he’s sitting in front of Seungwoo on Tuesday morning because he wants to learn. He seems to believe that it doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that he’s drop-dead gorgeous, and Yohan’s focused state is a result of the complex finance problems.

Yohan _isn’t_ focused on the problems. _Not in the slightest._

He probably couldn’t even repeat the names of the individuals in the problem and Seungwoo _just_ read the problem aloud to him (it’s _Mr. Kim_ ). He isn’t paying attention because, to Yohan, what’s important is that Seungwoo is _stunning_ and he’s _right there,_ and that is _so_ much more important than what the down payment on Mr. Kim’s $2 million home should be if the interest rate is 3.64 percent, and he only wants to pay $500 in monthly installments for the next 30 years.

He’s more fixated on preventing himself from drooling while he stares at Seungwoo. It’s extremely difficult. He’s trying very hard to make it look natural and he _knows_ Wooseok would tell him he’s doing a terrible job (which he is)—though, Hangyul might be encouraging. Hangyul is always encouraging.

He’s so deep in his thoughts that he doesn’t even realize Seungwoo is looking expectantly at him.

“Yohan?” Seungwoo asks. “Is this problem too hard for you?”

Yohan stares at the page. He feels something move in his gut, unsettling. _Truthfully, he doesn’t even know where to begin. Of course, it’s too hard for him._

“Um,” he says, eloquently.

Seungwoo immediately takes pity on him. He’s too kind, really.

He picks up his pen and points it to the written variable on Yohan’s sheet of paper.

He says, “Let’s start with organizing the problem. The question is asking you to look for the principal value, so that variable stays blank.” He moves his pen down to the next variable and asks, “What’s the interest rate?”

Nervously, Yohan licks his lips. Yohan isn’t stupid, he might have failed finance, but it wasn’t by _that_ many points. And Seungwoo isn’t asking him a difficult question, but it completely slips his mind that the answer is in the question. He’s too overwhelmed with the fact that he _thinks_ he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

Yohan’s eyes flicker up to Seungwoo. He stares at him for a moment, his eyes moving over Seungwoo’s long lashes and sharp features. He knows he has to come up with an answer before he gets completely distracted by his tutor’s beautiful face, but the gears in his head creak, ready to give up on him.

He swallows, hard.

“High.”

He regrets it as soon as he says it. Yohan shifts his eyes and stares down at the paper.

 _My interest rate in you is high_ is what he means. But that isn’t what Seungwoo is asking.

Seungwoo frowns a little.

“Actually,” he says, tapping his pen against the textbook, thoughtfully. “This is a pretty good interest rate for the standard market. It isn’t an ideal prime rate, but it’s lower than the posted rate. It’s pretty decent for someone who wants to buy a $2 million home. If you’ve got the money to spare to buy a $2 million home, you can probably handle being slightly above prime rates.”

Yohan blinks at him. _He completely missed it._

“That’s great,” he replies. He isn’t sure _what_ is great, but he’s so relieved that Seungwoo isn’t judging him for being too thirsty to think properly. He’s relieved that Seungwoo is _such_ a nerd about market interest rates that Yohan isn’t in trouble.

Seungwoo smiles. “Isn’t it?”

He sounds so genuinely pleased that the interest rate is a good one. Yohan finds his eyes lingering on Seungwoo’s smile a little too long. He clears his throat awkwardly and looks down at the desk.

“So, what’s the answer?” Yohan asks. Seungwoo tilts his head.

“You want to know the answer?” Seungwoo asks. He frowns a little, looking a little disappointed. “You don’t even want to try it out, Yohan?”

Sheepishly, Yohan looks down. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

Seungwoo chuckles.

“Would you like me to walk you through it?” he asks, “or do you want me to tell you the answer? Then, we can pick another problem for you to work on.”

Yohan stares at the problem. It feels like numbers are flying through his brain on tiny spaceships and none of them are willing to stop for him. He blinks hard.

“Can I have the answer?” he asks. “I’ll try the next one.”

Seungwoo laughs—it sounds so full of amusement that Yohan genuinely believes that Seungwoo loves this stuff, he genuinely believes that Seungwoo wouldn’t mind crunching numbers all day. Or maybe he’s just trying to convince himself that Seungwoo isn’t laughing at him because he doesn’t want to feel stupid. Although, Seungwoo has been doing a great job at teaching him without making him feel like he’s stupid (and Yohan _knows_ that he’s an idiot in the face of long strings of numbers).

Seungwoo nods his head and tears a scrap piece of paper from his binder. Yohan watches as he scribbles a few numbers onto it and punches a few numbers into his calculator. It takes him a few moments before he uncaps his highlighter and circles the number at the bottom of the page.

He turns it to Yohan with a smile.

“There are a lot of steps to this one because you need to figure out a couple of different numbers before you can calculate his down payment,” he says. He taps his pen on the highlighted circle on the paper. “In this problem, Mr. Kim would have to pay a down payment of $1,890,200 if he wanted to spend the next 30 years paying $500 per month.”

Yohan blinks hard. The bright yellow circle stares back at him threateningly. Seungwoo figures out the answer _so_ quickly that he feels intimidated.

He _knows_ that Seungwoo is fast. Seungwoo is teaching him because he’s _good_ at this. Yohan consciously knows that, but he still feels taken aback every time he sees Seungwoo slam out numbers like it isn’t the most difficult course Yohan has ever had the displeasure of taking.

“That’s a lot of money,” he says, brilliantly. He _wished_ he retained more than just that.

Seungwoo laughs. He nods, “It is. It’s almost 95 percent of the total cost of the home.”

“Why would he even get a mortgage?” Yohan mumbles, “This is so dumb.”

“Don’t worry too much about the lore behind Mr. Kim’s decisions, Yohan,” Seungwoo says. He rests his chin in his hands and grins. He tilts his head with a laugh and flips the page of the textbook. “Just accept the answer as the answer and you’re all good to go. It’s just math. No one is going to ask you this stuff in the real world.” Seungwoo pauses and glances at him, “Unless you’re majoring in finance?”

Yohan shakes his head vehemently.

“Never!” he says, terror in his eyes. He almost physically shakes at the _thought_ of doing this stuff for the rest of his life. He can barely survive a semester. He doesn’t have the strength Seungwoo has.

Seungwoo chuckles, “I didn’t think so.”

He lowers his hands and crosses his arms over one another, resting his elbows against the table. He tilts his head at Yohan, studying him quietly for a moment. Yohan shies under his gaze. He looks down.

Seungwoo says, “You don’t seem very interested in the material at all, so I would be worried if you were choosing to do this for the rest of your life.”

Seungwoo is always so honest.

“I’m interested,” he says. He’s lying through his teeth and he knows that it isn’t believable anymore, but over the past week and a half, he has become so accustomed to insisting that he likes whatever Seungwoo likes (which, unfortunately, is finance). “I love this stuff.”

Seungwoo’s eyes glint knowingly at him. He replies, “You don’t need to lie to me, Yohan. It won’t hurt my feelings if you hate the material I’m teaching.”

Yohan immediately backs down. He looks down into his lap and plays with his fingers.

Seungwoo chuckles.

He runs his fingers through his hair, thoughtfully. Yohan’s eyes follow his hands, watching as his long fingers card through his dark hair. Yohan swallows.

“Will it help if I give you some kind of incentive to study?” Seungwoo asks. Yohan stares at him blankly, unsure of what to think. Seungwoo continues, “I’ve noticed that you’ve spent most of the sessions staring at me. And while I’m flattered, I don’t think it’ll help you pass your courses.”

Yohan flushes. He fidgets in his seat, embarrassed.

“I don’t stare at you,” he lies.

Seungwoo tilts his head. There is a funny smile on his lips.

“You don’t?” he asks. He purses his lips, “Am I imagining it, then?”

Yohan shakes his head. He gives up immediately.

Quietly, he mutters, “I’m staring at you. I stare at you a lot.”

Seungwoo’s lips curve into a pleased smile. He nods, “I thought so.”

Yohan feels small in his seat.

It turns out that Seungwoo has had him all figured out and he was just hoping that Seungwoo was completely oblivious to his obvious gazes. No one can be so dense, though. He shouldn’t have expected it from someone as sharp as Seungwoo.

Yohan feels embarrassed. He wrings his hands, hating the way his fingers feel clammy.

“Sorry,” he murmurs.

Seungwoo’s smile becomes amused. He moves his hands, resting his palms against his chin with his elbows against the table. _Like a flower,_ Yohan thinks, _pretty._

“Listen,” Seungwoo says, “I’ll give you a quiz next week.”

Yohan pales.

“A quiz?”

Seungwoo nods. His eyes twinkle.

“It’ll have five questions on it,” he says. “If you do well, I’ll take you out after tutoring.”

Yohan stares at him.

“You’re serious,” he says. He sounds disbelieving. _As he should be._

Seungwoo tilts his head.

“Of course,” he says. He taps his pen against the surface of the textbook. “For the rest of today and the next session, I’ll be available for you to ask any questions about the material you don’t understand. Next Tuesday, you’ll write your quiz. Is that fair incentive, Yohan?”

“You’ll take me on a _date_ if I do well on my quiz?”

Seungwoo smiles.

“That’s right. You like me better than you like finance, right?” he says. Yohan flushes. Seungwoo’s voice softens and he tilts his head, “Is that okay?”

Yohan clears his throat and straightens up in his seat.

“What’s a grade that’s considered good?” Yohan asks.

Seungwoo blinks at him.

He says, “I would hope that you would get at least three of the five questions correct.”

Yohan swallows the _‘holy shit’_ that dances at the tip of his tongue. He grabs his pencil.

“Please teach me everything you know.”

He doesn’t have the decency to feel embarrassed when Seungwoo laughs at him at that time.

* * *

_“Yohannie!”_ Wooseok practically sings when he lets himself into their shared apartment. The apartment has been quiet without Wooseok around. The door slams shut behind him and he bounces on the balls of his feet as he makes a beeline to Yohan’s bedroom. He pokes his head into the crack of Yohan’s bedroom door. “Your favourite hyung is back to play with you!”

Standing in front of the full-length mirror in his bedroom, Yohan glances over at his roommate.

Wooseok is noticeably tanner, the blazing sun at the beach must’ve gotten to him. Yohan thinks about how he missed out on vacation with his friends, missed out on the bright sunlight because he was stuck indoors for the past two weeks. And then, he thinks about how he spent the past two weeks studying with the most beautiful man he has ever met.

“You’re back early,” he says.

Wooseok frowns. He looks confused.

“Didn’t you miss me?” he genuinely sounds heartbroken. Yohan laughs under his breath.

“Of course I missed you, hyung!” he exclaims. He turns to look at the mirror again as Wooseok leans against the door frame. He says, “I just didn’t think you were coming back so soon.”

Wooseok shrugs. He says, “Hangyul was starting to get homesick. He says beach volleyball doesn’t have the same feeling as playing basketball in the dinky gym.”

Yohan grins. It sounds just like Hangyul to get bored in unfamiliar places.

“He loves that place,” he says.

“I know,” Wooseok sighs, rolling his eyes. “He wanted me to come to get you because he wanted to play basketball with you as soon as he got back from the beach. He was so lifeless in the car, but _somehow_ , he’s got all the energy in the world when you toss him a basketball. You want to come?”

Yohan blinks.

“No,” he says, simply. And before Wooseok can say anything, Yohan turns to look at Wooseok with a dark grey blazer in front of his chest. Unprompted, he explains, “I have a date.”

Wooseok’s jaw drops.

At that moment, Wooseok seems to finally register that Yohan isn’t in his home clothes. He isn’t cooped up in his pyjamas like Wooseok half-expected him to be when he finally came home from his trip. He’s dressed up nicely and his hair is pushed back out of his eyes. He looks nice and it’s throwing Wooseok’s mind for a spin. He gapes at his roommate, confused.

“What?” he squawks. He throws the door open, unflinching when the door slams against the stopper and stalks into Yohan’s room with his hands on his hips. “You have a _what?_ ”

Yohan grins.

“I have a date with my tutor,” Yohan says, simply. “He’s picking me up in a few minutes.” He holds up a hanger with a navy-coloured blazer to his chest nonchalantly, “What looks better?”

Confused, Wooseok points to the dark grey tweed blazer to Yohan’s left.

“That one,” he says. Then, he frowns, “You didn’t say anything about this when you were texting me. All you said was that your tutor was the hottest man you’ve ever seen. What do you _mean_ you’re going on a date with him?”

Yohan laughs, slightly nervous.

“Yeah,” he says, “because I was _so_ scared I was going to fail. Taking that quiz was more nerve-wracking than the final exam last winter, I swear.”

Wooseok blinks rapidly. He opens and closes his mouth like a blubbering fish.

“What?” his voice pitches and he repeats himself, higher. _“What?”_

Yohan grins.

“I’ll tell you _all_ about it when I come back, hyung,” he says, bending down to slip his shoes on. Wooseok stares after him helplessly. “See you!”

He throws on his blazer and runs out the door.

Wooseok squawks but he doesn’t run after him.

Yohan skids to a stop at the edge of the sidewalk, just as Seungwoo’s car pulls up.

And when Seungwoo rolls his window down and smiles at him, Yohan thinks, _this summer couldn’t have given him anything better than a chance with Seungwoo._

(And, well, a chance to pass finance in the fall.)


End file.
